Hush, stay quiet for the air present now is far too sweet to speak into. At least, that's what you tell yourself when you're choking on poetic devices and stifling screaming kisses. You don't care too much, do you? At least that's what you care to believe even though the anxiety is causing you to throw up every last glance you shared with him in passing. And you palms are sweating out every last drop of why you ever thought this was love. "Tommorrow's a new day." you say even when you can't bear to go to sleep for fear of waking up in this same hell.  Realizing you've just missed out on another way out.  Have you lost you mind yet or is that another thing you won't believe? What is there to tell yourself now?